


Immediate Aftermath

by InchByInch



Category: Homeland
Genre: Angst, F/M, Franny is very silly, Happy Birthday, Happy Ending, Quinspiracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InchByInch/pseuds/InchByInch
Summary: Where the FUCK is she?Where the FUCK is he?Where am I?Happy Birthday to Pinkys143, a mother, a wife, and a professional, who makes it all work.





	Immediate Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, everything happens pretty much as in canon, up to the events in the fic. One scene that we didn’t see is from 6-04 ( _A Flash of Light_ ). On screen, Carrie enters Sekou’s home alone, but that does not make sense because there was nowhere she could have left Franny. I think what really what happened is that Carrie brought Franny with her. While Carrie was counseling Sekou, Franny got to know Sekou’s sister, Simone (I know, I’m not the writer who is reusing names, Simone really is Sekou’s sister’s name from Season 6!). Another thing you might want to remember is that the foster mother who took care of Franny was named Mrs. Roth.
> 
> This story begins mid 6-12. After the terrible attempt on Keane’s life, first responders swarmed over the scene and the black SUV. About an hour later...

_Jesus Fucking Christ, Carrie is a goddamned genius when it comes to being around when I don’t want her and being gone when I do want her. Where the FUCK is she? Not here with me, obviously. And just as obviously, she doesn’t really want to be with me._  


“Can you hear me, sir? You’ve been shot several times in your shoulders, but you are going to be all right. We’re putting in an IV. Hold nice and still now.”  


_Clearly Carrie has more important things to do than hold my hand when I’m in pain, even though she fucking KNOWS how much that helps. Fuck her. This is just another example of how I can’t trust her. She woke me up and caused my stroke in Berlin when I had been trying so hard to stop that gas attack. She was always there at the VA, nagging me about taking care of myself. Fucking nag. This is just another example of how she doesn’t care about me and what I want._  


“This is going to sting a little bit.”  


_Go fuck yourself._  


_Fuck, that sting more than a 'little bit.' And these fucking bullet holes hurt like FUCKING HELL. This is all Carrie’s fault. I have to remember that I hate her. That’s why she’s not here because I hate her and she is a heartless bitch for staying away from me. She had absolutely no clue about why I refused to shower. Then she jumped on top of me, stopping me from getting away from all those officers in the basement. And, after she got me locked up, she came to see me at Bellevue to spy on me – wait, no, that’s not right. She came to ask me something… whatever. She wasn’t there just for me. And she certainly isn’t here now. It’s all the same, all the evidence of her indifference. Fuck her. This is all her fault_

\------

_God, this is all my fault. I thought I was putting Quinn first, telling Keane he was dead so that she wouldn't keep putting him at risk. I am nothing but a fucking bipolar idiot – unfit – can’t trust my own emotions not to betray me. Where the fuck IS he? This is just like Berlin, just like Afghanistan. Fuck, this is just like Virginia. The man just **disappears.** Maybe I have to recognize that he really wants to get away from me, needs me to let him go like he keeps saying. Fuck! I should have trusted Quinn when he told me about our spying neighbor. I should never have gone to work and left him with Franny. I DEFINITELY shouldn’t have gone to Missouri those years ago. OK, focus focus focus. I have to find some **focus** that will keep me from sliding into this abyss of guilt. Now I can’t find him and there are fucking soldiers all over this hospital._

\------

 _The soldiers! That’s what I keep forgetting. Wait, weren’t they police? Fucking brain. Somehow the soldiers and the police were there in the house, in the basement, near where I protecting Franny. They had come to get Franny, but I saved her. Wait, no. **Carrie** saved her, Carrie shut the door and saved Franny from **me** , because she thought.... No, that’s not right either. Carrie knew that I would never hurt Franny, so who… **the soldiers had come for me,** not for Franny. The soldiers thought **I** would hurt Franny, so they were going to kill me, but Carrie saved me. Carrie risked her own life for me when she jumped on me, and Franny was right there. Jesus fucking Christ, I was so fucking wrong to think that Carrie took me down. For God’s sake, I cannot forget that again. Astrid, don’t let me forget. _  


“Don’t let me forget!”  


“Sir, you were shot several times while you were driving a car today, but you are going to be fine. You won’t have any difficulties with your memory.”  


_I’m in a hospital. Oh shit, Astrid. Astrid's dead. My fault. And Carrie doesn’t care about me. Fuck. I was wrong about Astrid and I was wrong about Carrie. I’m so sorry, Astrid. So wrong, wrong about everything... I’ve always been so smart but now I am a fucking idiot. Fucking Carrie should have let me die._

__\------_ _

_Fucking IDIOT! I was an idiot for leaving Quinn, even for a minute. Telling Keane he was dead, great move, protecting him from Keane’s attention, but now … his wounds were not anywhere near serious, right? Or were they? Fuck. Now I feel like a FUCKING idiot. OK. Time to focus._

__\------_ _

_Stay focused. Focus. I was wrong about Astrid, and I know I am wrong about something right now. What? Something about Carrie? Where the fuck is she? Everything goddamn HURTS and I want her here. She is always here. Why the fuck isn’t she here now when I need her. Fuck her for not being here._  


_Oh shit, that’s what I am supposed to focus on. Carrie. She might not be trying to piss me off. Fuck, she could have been hurt, or even killed. Fuck._  


“Wh – whuh – where is Carrie M-Mathison? M-M-Mathison. The woman I was w-w-w. Is she OK?”  


“You came to the hospital alone, Mr. Exley. Now, keep still while I stitch this wound.”  


_What the fuck? Exley?_

__\------_ _

“Quinn. Peter Quinn. Look again. I’ve been everywhere and there is no sign of him. He must have been brought to this hospital. He was shot.”  


“I’m sorry, ma’am. There is no one here by that name and no John Does. I hate to ask, but have you tried the morgue?”  


“Look again, you fucker.”  


“Ma’am, is there someone you can call? Because you cannot stay here.”  


“Is there a problem, here?”  


“Yes, officer, there’s a fucking problem, this… OK. No problem, I was just LEAVING.”  


_Fuck. WHY can’t I find him?_

__\--------_ _

“But whyyyy?”  


“Because I said so, Franny. Stop whining and keep up with me, we have to get some papers from my office.”  


_Miss Loras is a farting poopy-head._  


“Mommy said I would stay with Mrs. Roth until I could come back to our house. She SAID. She wouldn’t want me to leave without saying goodbye and she wouldn’t want me to leave Hop.”  


“Be quiet and keep up!”  


_Phooey on you, Ms. Diaper Rash! Hop needs me. Mom said he did. She said everything would be OK as long as I stayed with Mrs. Roth and was very good. And I HAVE been good. Something is very wrong._

__\--------_ _

_Something is wrong. He has to be somewhere. Jesus Fucking Christ, why is Keane calling again? She is the president-elect and I am nothing but a liability – to Keane and to everyone else. I’m not going to answer. Quinn certainly understands how toxic I am, he isn’t calling me._  


_He wants me to let him go, so he _must_ be hiding from me. He wasn’t dead, I’m SURE he wasn’t dead, and he didn’t have time to bleed out before that ambulance took him away. Shielding him from Kean by saying he was dead was a stupid attempt to put him first, all that did was give him a chance to get away from me. I should have kept him close. God, he has been so despondent, and it’s my fault, I haven’t been able to break through to him. I’ve been focused on the wrong things. But, that blast when the van blew up changed something for him, and instead of pushing me away, suddenly he came to me, and we were partners again, for just like, a minute, and then… God fucking damn, I can’t lose him. Where could he be? He can’t be… I won’t believe it, my lie can NOT have come true. Shit, what if he died? _

__\------_ _

_Why can’t I just fucking die already? Goddamn, my shoulders hurt so much. Somehow, I have survived, again, so that I can suffer, again. Multiple gunshots this time. Where the fuck is Carrie?_

“So, Mr. Exley, your exam shows four gunshot wounds, all to relatively safe places along the sides of your upper chest. You are extremely lucky, every bullet went straight through you, and you should be fine. The shoulders really are one of the safest places to be shot.”  


_No shit doctor. Please, keep telling me about what happens when the human body gets shot in different places. Even civilians who watch stupid TV spy shows know that shoulder wounds are typically non-lethal._  


“Three of the wounds seem to be from this afternoon, and one is older. Can you tell me how long you’ve left that untreated?”  


“What tiiii. Tiiiime…”  


“I’m sorry? Sir, do you know of any neurological damage you had before these injuries?”  


_Ouch, stop shining that light in my eyes. Fucking idiot doctor, how can I tell you how many hours since impact if you don’t tell me what time it is now? Ok, deep breath._  


“Tuesday, 17:35.”  


“That’s when you were first shot? So, not quite two days, that’s good. I notice you seem to have a lot of soot on you and you smell like smoke. Were you also in a fire?”  


_Well, there was the fire I set to the truck outside the gun shop, and then the bomb at the staging house, in the boy’s van._  


“Nope.”  


“No? ... Mr. Exley, I’d like to put you on some oxygen and measure your lung capacity and run some blood tests. I’d also like a CT of your brain and a neuro consult to evaluate….blah blah blah.”  


_Irrelevant blather. Bomb at the staging house. That bomb changed everything, but I can’t remember why – I need to remember, though. The shockwave ripped through me, and suddenly... something really important happened. Or maybe I realized something?.. Oh yeah, I realized Carrie is a bitch who caused me to have a stroke ‘cause she knew I deserved it. No, not that. Something else about Carrie…What’s this, fucking oxygen mask? Whatever… the staging house… Still the same… I was there… I **am** there, so relieved, finally going to be punished for all my crimes, thank God. Fucking Carrie and her fucking immunity deal. Fuck her, nattering away. Just stop talking, Carrie. _

__\------_ _

_Fucking phone. Keane again. Fine. I can talk._  


“Hello Ma’am.”  


“Carrie? Where are you? Listen, I know you’ve had a tough day, but I need you to come back to my hotel right now and go over the sequence of events as you know them with Saul and my new security advisor. Most importantly, I need you here with me so you can advise me –”  


“Saul is alive? How the hell did he survive?”  


“Listen to me, Carrie. Your country needs you. I’m offering you a chance to influence policy at the highest level – an office in the West Wing.”  


“I… I’m honored. But I need to focus right now on getting my daughter back. Dar is the one who set her removal in motion, and now that he is discredited, if I act, I might have a chance –”  


“I understand how difficult it must be to cope with your losses, especially Franny. But you have to tell yourself that your situation was extraordinary. You put yourself through an enormous amount of strain because you were the **only one** who could see what was really happening. My administration blah blah blah.”  


_God, yes, she is so right. Someone **UNDERSTANDS.**_

__\------_ _

“Blah blah blah.”  


_God this doctor is blathering away. Just like Carrie. Blah blah immunity. Doesn’t she fucking get it? But then later she was still blathering and something happened. Something that changed everything. Fuck. I’ve got to get this._

__\------_ _

“Blah blah.” _Elizabeth TOTALLY gets it. I’ve been in an extraordinary position to understand the threat and FINALLY, someone appreciates that. The president-elect recognizes my abilities…_  


“Carrie, women who are ambitious cannot afford to be emotionally fragile. People will see you as weak if you prioritize your relationships. You have to be twice as tough as any man. ”  


_So true. I have to show the world I'm strong, in-control. That needs to be my priority. But…_  


“The best way to cope with your grief is through dedication to a noble goal.”  


_YES! That is what I was just thinking. I need to FOCUS. Except..._  


“Sacrificing personal relationships for the sake of professional gain is how the game is played. If you don't show that you are willing to prioritize the mission, you might as well sit on the sidelines and babysit.”  


_Yes, that’s SO TRUE. People don't take me seriously if I don't sacrifice for the sake of the mission. Sometimes the needs of the mission come first... wait...  
_

_Sometimes a four-year-old's needs… wait. Wait._

__\------_ _

_Wait. What happened at the staging house? I was there with the group and McClendon was briefing us for a mission into Iran. No, that was a long time ago. Last time I went to Iran was to get Carrie out, but that was a different time…. Brody went to Iran. He died there. Fucking Brody, I hate that fucking marine. Did the right thing in the end, though – a fucking hero’s death, that’s the way to go. Brody paid for his sins. He made sure that no one else would suffer for the mistakes he made. Except..._

__\------_ _

“Franny Mathison is her name. She is four years old, no father, mother is bipolar, but that’s the least of it. The priority now is to remove my name from the placement record, like I was never involved.”  


_I am right here listening to you talking about me and Mommy, you fart-face. But, maybe it’s good that she’s talking so much on her phone while we are walking through the city. That might give me a chance..._

__\------_ _

_Today was my chance! That should have been my end – to go out a hero like Brody so that I can’t hurt anyone else… except… well, Johnny is happy, he has a great dad, so, I won’t be leaving anyone behind to suffer for my sake. Except… it doesn’t matter. I’m a fucking mutant, I can’t do anything for anyone. But, at the staging house this morning… I killed Astrid’s killer, that was my only purpose, I have nothing left. But then, something happened… I have to understand._

__\------_ _

“I’m not sure you understand, Ma’am. Quinn was my… my partner, and I—”  


“Carrie. I’ve been briefed on Agent Quinn’s story, and I’m so sorry. But, it sounds as though Peter Quinn was a soldier through and through. He wasn’t really himself after he became disabled.”  


_Well, maybe in some ways, but he is still a stubborn asshole who doesn’t want to be found. Fuck, at least I can distract myself from my guilt by helping Keane discover the truth about McClendon._  


“A man like that deserved a full life. He wouldn’t have wanted to live damaged and incompetent.”  


_True. I mean... He HATES living damaged and… well. He certainly FEELS incompetent. He feels like he has no heart…_  


“With his level of brain injury, he could never have understood the conspiracy that you were tracking.”  


_Wait. Think._  


He sounds a lot like my son – his heart was his mission. Without that mission, he had no purpose, like a walking ghost. A hero’s death was the best ending –”  


_**Shut the FUCK up.**_  


“I’m not coming.” 

__\------_ _

“Yes, we’re coming. Are you sure you’ve removed my name from her file? No, the girl is fine, it’s the adults in her life that are the problem. Yes, just as we agreed, you will get everything you asked for.”  


_Miss Booger-Brain is the adult who is a problem. She is like those people chanting and trying to get into our house, saying that Mommy did something bad and throwing things through the windows. Peter didn’t let those people get me. I was safe with him, but then they took him away and that made Mommy really scared at night. If I could just go back home, maybe Peter is better now, and Mommy won’t be scared, and everything will be like it was before. Ms. Loras Doloras Umbridge is so busy talking on the phone, she won’t even notice if I go around this corner..._  


“OK, I understand. I’ll be there with the girl in about… Hey, Franny? Fanny!! Goddammit, where did that fucking kid go?” 

__\------_ _

_Where is she?_

_\------_

_Where is he?_

_\------_

_Where am I? OK, at least I got away from Loras-More-Puss. She can go forget herself. But what do I do now? Hmm, Mommy always said that if get lost, I should find a policeman or look for a mom with kids. No one like that around, but I’ve seen that sign before. That picture was on the shirt of that girl, Simone. She was nice. Her brother wore a white cap, and he is a friend of Mommy. Maybe Simone is in there and she can help me. This is the right thing to do._

_\------_

_OK, focus, but on the **right thing,** not sucking up to the president-elect. No more pretending bullshit to try to fit into ANYONE'S expectations. I **don't** fit in, I am **UNFIT.** 'I shouldn’t have gone to Missouri, I shouldn’t have woken him up. I should never have left Franny to go to work. My fault because I screwed up.’ That's all bullshit. I screwed up, but I did NOT cause all these problems. Assad, Bibi, and McClendon are to blame. I could never have committed to Quinn if I hadn’t gone to Missouri. Would I be a better partner and mother if I had put Quinn and Franny first always, NEVER never tried to find a compromise so that I could make my own contribution to the world? **FUCK THAT.** I may be a fucking needy person, and I am definitely passionate about my work, but I am not a monster! If Quinn and Franny don’t get that, then FUCK society for telling them otherwise – fucking television producers and writers who promote sexist storylines where women are punished if they defy social norms. _  


_Life is messy, and I am an uncontrollable force of a woman. Everyone can just **DEAL WITH IT.** I may SUCK at taking care of you Quinn, but I am still here and I am not giving up, I won’t let you hide from me while I focus on solving the fucking conspiracy. I am going to keep looking until I find you this time like I should have done in Berlin. And, Franny, yeah, sometimes I make the wrong call as a mother. I can’t ALWAYS put you first. But you are not going to grow up believing that a woman always has to be perfect, either sacrificing herself and her family for the sake of her job or sacrificing herself and her mission for the sake of her family. The reality is a fucking chaotic balance, I'm done pretending I've got everything under control. I don’t want Franny to hold herself to that standard, so I’m not going to do that to myself. I am going fight for Franny, not pretend I am some perfectly-put-together asshole to impress Fucking Loras. I’m going to bring out my cork board and put it in the fucking living room. I'm going to call Maggie and tell her I need emotional support. I'm going to BE better by admitting that I am not perfect. I am going to face my empty home and make a plan to find Quinn and get back my daughter. That is my priority. Things are going to change._  


_\------_

_God, they haven’t changed anything about this house in the past 15 years. Fucking immunity deal, Carrie’s trying to distract me thinking about fucking East Coast Time. Could McClendon and Dar really have gone so dark they’re using a group to take out the president-elect? If so, how would they do it and how could it be stopped? Not my problem, I can’t take responsibility for protecting America today because the government is finally going to punish me for all that I’ve done, just like they should have done long ago. The reckoning that I always knew was coming is finally here, and I don’t have to risk anything to save anyone else because I can’t. My body is fucked and I am going to be back in custody soon._  


_Bomb. **Bomb.** The boy’s van was set to explode, which of course I should have anticipated. Fucking fucked-up brain. And now Carrie... Fuck. Oh fuck, Carrie. Jesus fucking Christ, Carrie. I can’t go back to jail, I have to be there for you, for both of you. Oh Carrie, I’m so sorry, I almost lost you to that asshole this morning, and if you’ve been hurt in this bomb… It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, I can’t lose you, and it’s the same for you. It would destroy you, no one else will understand you, be with you. That’s why… why the immunity, why you came to Bellevue, why you jumped on me, why you forgive me, why you lied to me, why you stood by me, why you trusted me, why you won’t let me go. Oh, God, Carrie, please be OK._  


“Don’t let m-m-me forget!” _Fucking oxygen mask._  


“Forget what Mr. Exley?” _Who the fuck are you? A nurse?_  


“She needs me. That’s why. And I n-n-need...” _Fuck, I’m in the hospital._  


“She’ll be glad to know you’re OK then, Mr. Exley.”  


_David Exley. Fuck. Carrie doesn’t know.  
_

_I have to get out of here._

___\------_ _ _

____

“Hello! Can I come in here?”  


“Hey little girl, welcome to Jamba Juice. Where’s your mother?”  


“You can help me find her.”  


“Wait—I know you! Your mom is that lawyer that helped out Sekou. You’re Franny, right? Where’s your mama, Honey?... Hey, don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong.”  


“Simone, if that baby isn’t with her mother, you’ve got to call the cops.”  


“No! Her mama was a friend of my brother’s. We don’t need to call anyone, I can take her home.”  


“How’re you going to do that when your shift doesn’t end ‘till another hour?... That’s what I thought. OK, go now. Take off early, I’ll cover for you. You’re just lucky we don’t have too many customers, and you better go quick before a bunch of people come in and I change my mind. And you can be early for your shift tomorrow, as soon as school’s out!”  


“Come on little Franny, let’s get you home! What’s your address?”

_\------_

“You can’t go home, Mr. Exley, you have four gunshot wounds and —“  


“I’ve had w-w-worse. Antib-b-biotics? Hydrated? H-home. Help me get my coat on o-over this fucking dress and call me a t-t… a cab.”

_\------_

_Home. I will not slow my steps just because I don’t want to arrive my empty house. I will turn the corner onto our block at a normal walking pace. I WILL get both of them back… wait. Red ponytail bouncing, skipping along holding the hand of an African American teenage girl in a Jamba Juice uniform. It can’t be Franny, I am just seeing what I want to see. It can’t be true. That can’t really be Sekou’s sister. She wouldn’t be walking with Franny towards our house._  


“Mommy!”  


_Oh God. Oh, Franny, thank God._

_\------_

“OK, sir. Here’s the address. You going to pay with cash or charge?”  


“C-cash. Here.”  


_OK, with any luck Carrie will be here, too, and she will take care of me. Just hang on, she’ll be here. And I will remember that she is fucked up just like me, but that doesn't mean she doesn't care. We have to be there for each other. Just try to honor Astrid’s last request and say something nice. Oh God, there she is, there is Franny. Why are they outside, running towards each other?_  


“Carrie!”

“Quinn! Oh, Quinn, thank God!”

“Peter! Are you all better? Can I come home now?”

“Franny.”

“Franny, Quinn is hurt, we can’t hug him too tight.”

“S’OK. Everything’s OK. We’re together, it’s all going to be OK now. This time will be better.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one was weird, I know, and I'm not even sure it made sense. Could you all follow what was happening? Interior monologues of a woman struggling on the edge of mania, a brain-damaged vet, and 4-year-old, is a bit crazy, but the fun thing about fanfic is that we can try experimental things. In the end, I wasn't sure the revelations were believably supported in the text, and I remain ambivalent about whether Franny is good comic relief, or whether she is too silly and sets an inconsistent tone. Let me know how this worked for you!


End file.
